


An Honest Mistake

by Orison



Series: Rescue Me [10]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: And are lost when they're alone, Angst, Because they care about each other, Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 11:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20865446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orison/pseuds/Orison
Summary: Part ten of the “Rescue Me” series: Chasing a lead without backup is never a good idea…





	An Honest Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Took me a while, but here’s another one.  
It was born from a very specific scene I had in mind. One small scene that I really wanted to write. For days, it was just me and that scene. Nothing else. Just pitch black. Then slowly, very slowly and with the input and encouragement of two very special friends, I was able to build a plot around it and come up with a whole story.
> 
> Friendly reminder: what I'm trying to do with this series, what I’m interested in, is switching the focus from the plot to the characters. These stories are not about solving cases, they're about Steve and Danny being there for each other. So if you don’t find a fully developed, well-fleshed plot, that’s intentional. It’s not the kind of details I want to describe. I just love the idea of experiment-ing with different scenarios and imagine how the boys would react. 
> 
> Characters aren’t mine, but I still love them dearly.

***

Hands moved frantically across the desk, rummaging through piles of neatly stacked papers with sharp, precise movements. Expert eyes scanned line after line, focusing on every printed word and string of numbers with the same amount of accuracy and speed that had made him an asset during his Naval Intelligence days.

A sense of urgency hung in the air, permeating the room. 

There was barely enough light coming from outside, the sun having long set over the horizon, but Steve barely noticed it as he rifled through documents, old and new, driven by an almost physical need to find the information he knew was there before his time ran out. 

He opened yet another folder and glanced at his wristwatch.

Three minutes to the deadline.

He _had_ to make it.

Failure was _not_ an option.

His heart almost leapt when he finally found the data he was looking for. 

With no time to spare, he booted his laptop and accessed his email account, quickly retrieving the message he had already memorized and did not wish to look at again. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed his reply and attached the requested file.

It had to be enough.

There was no time left.

He hit ‘send’ when there were only 13 seconds left and leaned back in his chair, releasing a heavy breath. He had met the deadline, but there was no guarantee that the people he was dealing with would keep their end of the bargain. 

As scheduled, a few moments later his cellphone rang.

“Did you send it?” a flat, metallic voice asked on the other end of the line.

Steve straightened up in his chair. “Yes. Yes, I did. Now what?”

“Now you wait.”

“No no no wait,” he begged as he shot to his feet, unable to help the waver in his voice. “How do I know—”

But his caller was already done. Steve heard the unmistakable sound of the line clicking shut and almost screamed in frustration. A shaky hand covered his mouth while the question he had wanted to ask replayed itself over and over in his head. 

_How do I know he’s alright? _

***

_Danny pursed his lips as he drove the Camaro through the windward coast of Oahu, following a dull, brownish path stretching between two green patches of land. _

_He had lost cell reception a few minutes before, when plantations and gravel had replaced buildings and paved roads. His foot was steady on the gas pedal, his grip tight on the steering wheel as he debated whether or not he should keep going. _

_If the situation was reversed and it was Steve out there, he knew he would be ranting about proper police procedures until he knocked some sense into the man’s thick skull. This time, he had been the reckless one, starting after a suspect on the hunch that the car he was driving matched the partial plate of a vehicle connected to a few drug-related shootings they’d been trying to crack for weeks. _

_Being a good cop meant that if something caught your eye you couldn’t, in good conscience, turn the other way and ignore it. So here he was, dutifully trailing behind the dark sedan on a warm, drowsy summer afternoon, leaving civilization behind instead of driving home and enjoy his well-deserved rest. _

_In a scale of one to McGarrett-crazy, what he was doing wasn’t nearly as dangerous as the stunts his partner pulled, he reasoned. And he had tried to contact him, but Steve was in court all day and hadn’t answered his call. _

_Danny had left a vague message, not wanting to bother anyone in case it turned out to be a dead end. He had no proof, after all, just a feeling and his detective’s gut telling him to keep driving. _

_When he realized what he’d stumbled upon was bigger than he thought and that he probably should’ve added a few more details, it was already too late. _

***

Steve had listened to the voicemail countless times in the six hours since Danny’s disappearance. Looking for hidden messages, background noises, and ultimately just to hear his best friend’s voice.

While he had tried to convince himself that everything was under control, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that, despite his efforts, was slowly forcing its way through his subconscious. 

A feeling that only surfaced when Danny was in danger and reduced the big, bad Navy SEAL to a panicking mess.

He slammed his hand down on the desk, a low growl escaping his lips as he failed to restrain himself against the powerful mix of frustration and worry-induced rage coursing through his veins. 

_This was not_—

This was not how it was supposed to go.

A few minutes later, his phone beeped again. This time it was a text message, with a picture attached to it.

A picture of Danny lying on the floor, hands tied behind his back. Underneath, in block letters, words he immediately wished he hadn’t read: 

YOU CHOSE NOT TO FOLLOW THE RULES.  
THIS IS ON YOU.

He dropped the phone as if his hand had been burned. The device fell on the wooden table, bounced off of it and landed on the floor with a loud thud, face up, the picture still displayed on the screen. 

For a moment, all the basic functions like breathing or thinking stopped as if his body had short-circuited. Steve felt his chest tighten, muscles spasming uncontrollably and conspiring not to let any breath in. Panic soared like a giant wave, whiting out everything around him, and his mind became as static, a buzzing grey area where thoughts made no sense and jumbled images replayed themselves in a sickening loop.

_Danny... _

Despite having looked at the picture for only a few seconds, the details were already etched into his memory. The strand of blond hair covering his left eye, the torn sleeve of his striped shirt, the bruise darkening his swollen cheek.

Had they...

Had _he_ killed him?

_No! _ his brain screamed. He had sent the files, just like they’d asked.

They wouldn’t...

_They couldn’t_...

Forcing down the thought that his actions might have caused Danny harm, Steve bent down to retrieve the phone and hurriedly slid his thumb over the screen to unlock it. 

He had to fix this.

There _had_ to be a way to fix this. 

Heart hammering at an unhealthy rate, he dialed the number they had used to contact him, only to realize that the line had been disconnected.

“Damnit!” he screamed out loud, barely able to control the impulse to throw the device into the wall and watch it shatter. Fingers coiled into fists at his sides and he bowed his head, slowly breathing in and out in a desperate attempt to clear his head so he could figure out his next move.

***

_‘Hey, Steve, it’s me. I, uh… just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in a little late. I might have a lead on the Park case and I’m following it to see if it pans out. No need to have a stroke over it, it’s only a short detour. I’ll be fine. Call you later.’ _

_“WHAT? Danny, what the hell, man?” Steve said out loud as if the other man was right there to listen. _

_After a long day in court, all he wanted was to head home, enjoy the fettuccine Danny had promised to cook him, and pass out on the couch. Instead, he had picked up his cellphone to find two missed calls and a voicemail from his partner who had apparently pulled a page off his own book and was chasing a lead somewhere with no backup. _

_He shook his head, unable to believe what he’d just heard. _

_The Park case. That alone was enough to make Steve’s heart hammer in his chest. _

_Five-0 hadn’t had a case that bad since Agent Fischer’s death and the hit Adam’s half-sister Noriko had ordered on the gang-related criminals they’d gathered in Ewa Beach. _

_The name was linked to a powerful family who ran one of the most lucrative drug business on the island, and usually meant trouble. There were at least five relatives involved as far as they knew, and it had taken weeks and a painstaking work to gather up the evidence that would put two of them in the 6x8 cells where they belonged. The only reason they hadn’t arrested them yet was that they were trying to do everything by the book, making sure they crossed all their t’s and dot-ted the i’s so that no expensive lawyer could question their methods and get them out on a technicality. _

_Two out of five wasn’t ideal, but it would still be a heavy blow to the organization. _

_With some luck, they would strike again while the remaining members tried to regroup. _

_Danny had voiced his frustration more than once, loudly, waving and jabbing his hands in the air to make his points. For once, he had been the impatient one, the first to arrive and the last to leave the office, determined to find as many leads as he could to put the whole family —and anyone they’d ever made business with— away for a very long time. _

_A man of good instincts and a sixth sense for spotting crime that turned him into a bloodhound on the hunt, there was just no way he would ignore a lead if he thought he had one. _

_Steve didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified about it. _

_When all his attempts to get in touch with him failed, he called Junior and asked him to find out where Danny’s cellphone had last pinged. _

_Then he pressed play again. _

***

Before Steve had a chance to sort through his jumbled thoughts, his cellphone came back to life, displaying another unknown number.

Still reeling from the shock of the picture they’d sent him and the possible consequences of his actions, it took him a moment to register the sound and for his brain to place the pieces together and reason that yes, it _had_ to be them.

He pressed the green button to accept the call and listened with bated breath.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” The same guy asked in an angry voice.

“What?”

“I said, do you think I’m stupid, McGarrett?”

“No,” the former SEAL replied in an equally tight tone. “No, I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“You encrypted the files.”

White knuckles clutched the edge of the desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then I guess you don’t care if your partner’s alive or dead.”

“I did, okay? I did! Do you think _I’m_ stupid? I’m not gonna give up my only leverage without some insurance. I want proof of life. You show me that Detective Williams is alive and then we’ll talk business.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Steve wondered if he had gone too far. “You’re not in a position to make demands, Commander. If I were you, I’d think very carefully about the next words coming out of your mouth.” 

“This is not what we agreed on!” Desperation had slipped into his voice, but he didn’t care anymore. He was prepared to do anything they asked. 

His caller didn’t care either.

“I make the rules. You follow them or we’re done. I will contact you again with instructions in the morning.”

And just like that, he hung up again.

Steve took a step back, letting his hands drop uselessly by his sides, looking stricken like he had just been physically hit. 

Lost.

Guilt ripped at his soul, twisting like a worm in his gut, and he swallowed against the hard, painful lump in the back of his throat, head aching from the pressure of too many thoughts.

_What have I done? _

***

_The first time they contacted him, it was exactly four hours and forty-seven minutes since Danny had left the voicemail and four hours and fifty-three minutes since his last phone signal had been picked up on the H2 near Wahiawa. _

_The team was gathered around the smart table, doubling their efforts and speed like they always did whenever one of their own was in trouble. _

_Steve had fished the phone out of his pants pocket, steeling himself for the conversation, while Adam and Junior set things ready to trace and record the call. _

_“Who’s this?” he asked, feigning ignorance. _

_“I’m disappointed, McGarrett,” a male voice replied in mock dismay. Young, smug, it was probably one of Kenji Park’s sons. “I thought you’d be climbing the walls by now.” _

_Steve almost gasped at how accurate the description was. _

_“Why should I?” _

_“Nice try,” the man laughed. “As you know, your partner paid us a visit today, and he’s currently enjoying our hospitality.” _

_Everyone stilled for a moment, afraid to even imagine what that meant. _

“I can’t guarantee he’ll be returned safely, but I want to reassure you that he’s okay for now.” 

_Steve closed his eyes, hitched a breath through clenched teeth. “What do you want?” _

_“Everything.” _

_“I don’t know what that means.” _

_“You’ve been stalking me for weeks, Commander. I want everything you have on us. Surveillance videos, transcripts, bank statements. Anything that implicates us and our business. You’re going to send it to me and forget all about it.” _

_The data. _

_He should’ve seen that coming. _

_“You know I can’t do that. I’m a police officer.” _

_The caller went on, unfazed. “Or, I’m gonna deliver Detective William’s body to your doorstep and take someone else from your team. The lovely lady with the attitude, maybe. Or Hiro Noshimuri’s son. I might even come directly for you, McGarrett…” _

_Leaning over the smart table, hands braced on the cold, smooth surface, Steve looked around the room, scanning his friends’ faces. _

_He recognized a dead end when he saw one. Park was more than welcome to come for him, but he had no intention of risking Danny’s life or anybody else’s. That was simply not an option. _

_“It’s gonna take some time to put it together,” he eventually said, hoping they would believe him. _

_“You have one hour. Make it count.” _

***

8:27.

The damn clock read 8:27pm. 

What was he supposed to do until the morning? 

He had barely gotten through the last few minutes, and had the ragged breaths and thundering heartbeat to prove it.

It might not have been the brightest idea, but encrypting those files had been the only way to try and stall Park and his sons so that they could locate them. 

And now it might have cost Danny his life.

_‘Snap out of it, McGarrett! Think!’ _

He could hear Joe White’s voice in his head, berating him for allowing his emotions to interfere with the mission’s goal.

The key to staying sane was keeping a distance. 

That’s what the Navy had taught him.

_Don’t let it get personal. _  
_Don’t get involved. _  
_Don’t cross the line. _

He used to excel at taking that advice, back when he was a soldier.

Back when Danny wasn’t part of his world.

Back before Danny became his whole world.

***

_The second time, they called fifteen minutes before the deadline. _

_Steve had just pulled into the driveway and put the Silverado in park, already glancing at his watch and trying to estimate how long it’d take him to find the folder with the content he needed to add to the data he had already gathered. _

_“I’m here,” he answered, edgy and slightly out of breath. _

_He could hear noises on the other end of the line, distant voices, then the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh. _

_“Steve?” Danny’s strained voice came a second later as Steve unlocked his front door, not bothering to close it behind himself and hurrying instead towards his father’s study. _

_“Danny?” His reply was almost hesitant, as if he couldn’t believe he was really talking to him. “Are you alright?” _

_“Not my best day… Listen, Steve, they, uh… they wanna know if you got what they want.” _

_“It’s gonna be alright, Danny, you hear me? I’m gonna get you out of there!” _

_He heard another hit, followed by his partner’s painful groan. _

_“Yes! I got what they want!” Steve shouted, wincing like they’d just hit him too. “Do not touch him, you son of a bitch!” _

_“Very good,” the ominous voice he had come to fear said on the other end of the line. “Once we’re done, you will receive a message. Do what it says. You have thirteen minutes, McGarrett. Not one second late.” _

_The man’s tone grew distant, and then he stopped talking altogether. Steve gripped his phone, pressing it even further to his ear as if the closest it was the better he could listen to what was going on. _

_He heard a thump, a muffled yelp, and a moment later, Danny’s desperate plea. _

_“Don’t do that, Steve. Whatever it is, don’t do it!” _

_“Danny!” _

_Before Steve realized what had happened, the call was over and he was left glaring at his phone, cold sweat trickling down his neck. _

_‘Don’t do it!’ _

_‘Don’t do it...’ _

_Memories and feelings of one of the worst days of his life flashed through his brain. _

_‘Whatever these people want, Steve, don’t give it to them. Don’t you give it to them!’ _

_Not again. _

_He couldn’t do it again. _

_The soldier who had listened to his father’s death ten years before had barely made it through it. _

_The man he had become now a decade later, who had lost so much and so many people, was not going to survive another loss. _

_Steve rubbed a hand over his face and looked at the clock again. _

_Nine minutes. _

_Shoving all those unwanted feelings down so he could function enough to complete his task, he put the phone down on the desk and got to work. _

***

He had to be alive.

Danny just _had_ to be alive.

As the seconds ticked by and keeping his demons at bay became more and more challenging, Steve’s breath turned from regular to a panting gasp and he started to suck in air like it had suddenly become thick and too difficult to draw in. 

He felt anger boil deep inside his system; a hot, burning rage hungry for destruction. 

Before he could stop himself, he swiped one arm across the desk, knocking everything to the floor. 

It didn’t make things better.

The events of the day were still weighing down on him, crushing his spirit and shattering his last shreds of normalcy into a million pieces. 

Steve grabbed the back of the chair to steady himself. 

Then he lifted it and hurled it across the room. 

Once the first one was unleashed, wave after wave of uncontrolled fury rolled off him, uncaring about consequences, and he started to hit, break and throw anything he could get his hands on.

Danny’s voice echoed in his head as he wreaked havoc on the room, relishing the feeling of skin splitting across his knuckles and the crack of wood and glass around him. 

_‘Don’t do that, Steve. Whatever it is, don’t do it!’ _

_I’m sorry, Danny... _

_I’m sorry…_

When his senses floated back into place an indefinite time later Steve stilled, staring at the mess he had created. The sight prompted a sudden surge of nausea and he bolted out of the room, out of the house. 

He stopped on the lanai, drawing in desperate breaths of air before heading towards the water, clothes and all, desperate to escape the world for a bit and longing for that kind of healing only the ocean could give him. He dove in cleanly, leaving no splash, and cleaved the water with rhythmic strokes, moving with precision and a practiced fluidity as he allowed his limbs to take charge and do all the work. 

He swam in the dark, under the night sky until he couldn’t hear Danny anymore, until he cleared his minds of every poisonous thought and his heart slunk back into the shadows where it couldn’t be harmed.

***

Lou Grover stopped his Suburban halfway down McGarrett’s driveway, frowning at the way his friend’s truck had been carelessly parked with its front wheels stepping on the grass and danger-ously close to a palm tree’s trunk.

The realization of Danny’s disappearance and the phone call demanding information they’d spent weeks and overtime gathering had shocked every team member but, for obvious reasons, Steve had taken the hardest blow. Lou had watched him slowly unravel, witnessed his demeanor change and the light fade from his eyes, replaced by the cold, angry stare he usually hid behind when emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

In the seven years he had known Steve, he’d become pretty good at reading him and anticipating his reactions, so the minute he had seen him rush out of the office he’d figured out that a) his boss had a plan, and b) said plan’s only outcome was to get Danny home. Whatever it took.

What he hadn’t factored in, what he would realize soon enough, was the way emotions could mess even the most perfect plan.

Sighing, Lou approached the house, noticing with apprehension that the front door was ajar. 

He debated whether or not to call out for his friend, and eventually decided to slip in unnoticed, just in case there was a perp to surprise. His right hand automatically reached for the weapon at his side while the other carefully swung the door open. 

At first glance, there seemed to be nothing out of place.

No intruders, no suspicious sounds. 

Just silence.

As he cautiously walked across the living room, his eyes caught a bunch of papers scattered on the floor. Lou stopped, raised one eyebrow and pulled out his gun.

A closer look at the adjoining room revealed a whole other picture, and it took a few seconds for his brain to translate what he was seeing as reality. Steve’s usually neat studio was completely trashed. The desk was empty, what was sitting on it thrown haphazardly on the floor. The bureau’s drawers were open, its content strewn over the wooden floorboards. Chairs were overturned. Lamps broken. John McGarrett’s old paintings lay discarded in a corner, their frames shattered beyond repair. 

Even his cellphone had met the same fate and was sitting half-hidden next to the toppled desk. 

Lou picked it up, stared at the broken screen.

His stomach knotted with renewed worry.

“Steve?” 

He said his friend’s name out loud, not really expecting him to answer, and quashed the feeling, replacing it with a different kind of fear.

Intuition and decades of experience were telling him that the devastation he was seeing wasn’t the result of a fight. 

A quick glance at the kitchen and spare bedroom confirmed it.

No one had broken into the house. 

Steve had just lost control. 

Grover shook his head and reached for the desk, set it back upright.

He glanced outside, towards the ocean, and almost jumped out of his skin when he spotted a lone figure making its way towards the house. Holstering his weapon, Lou moved aside and bowed his head, watching as Steve wearily dragged himself inside, dripping wet, guilt and self-loathing plas-tered on his face. 

If he was surprised to see him there, he didn’t show it.

Neither of them moved for a few moments, Steve standing stock still in the middle of the room and Grover leaning against the doorframe.

“I encrypted the files,” the former SEAL said when he finally broke the silence. “Thought it would buy us some time...”

“What’d they do?” 

Steve opened his mouth to speak, swallowed hard, tried again. “They... they sent a picture.” He hesitantly raised his head to meet his friend’s eyes, relieved to find no judgment or resentment there, only understanding.

Lou nodded slowly, crossed his arms over his chest. That explained the outburst and the fully-clothed night dive into the ocean.

“How bad is it?” he asked, the clenched fists and white knuckles he was staring at already telling him he wouldn’t like the answer. 

“I don’t…” Steve dropped his gaze again. “He looks…” He pointed at his phone, silently urging the other man to look for himself because he couldn’t stomach the thought of ever seeing it again.

Grover reached for the device, found the shot of Danny who appeared, for all intents and purposes, dead, and resisted the urge to smash a few things of his own. 

“They’re not going to kill him, Steve,” he said, trying to reassure them both. “They need him alive.”

Steve sucked in air, felt it stab just under his breastbone. “Yeah...”

“What’s the plan?”

“They said they’d contact me again with instructions in the morning.” His voice had a hard edge, his body still rigid with fury that the swim hadn’t completely soothed. 

“Alright. So, what are we gonna do?” 

Steve scrubbed a hand across his face and fixed Lou with a stare that could have frozen the Pacific, a look that said _‘I’m gonna find them and kill them all’_. 

“We’re gonna be ready.”

***

Danny groaned, shifted to lean his upper body against the wall.

He was thirsty as hell, had the mother of all headaches, and somehow during the fight with his captors that had caused him to lose consciousness he’d dislocated his left shoulder. The whole limb was now throbbing incessantly, the pain made worse by the awkward position he was forced into since they had tied his hands behind his back.

Despite all that, he was still lucid and determined enough not to make their lives easy. 

It was just a matter of stalling them until Steve found him.

Steve, who was probably going to rip him a new one when he realized what he had done. 

There was a reason he always ranted about protocol. Protocol was there to prevent situations like this. Protocol was every cop’s friend.

The fact that his hunch had proved to be correct was a small consolation as he sat on the ground, glaring at the six-foot-three, 250-pound man who was assigned to watch him.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Where’s the rest of the band?”

His legs weren’t restrained, and he still had the ability to talk, which he fully intended to use to his advantage. The people who had taken him were either morons or so full of themselves that they didn’t think of him as a threat. 

Danny figured the two things weren’t mutually exclusive. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

The man just stared angrily at him. 

“Whatever plan you guys think you have it’s not gonna work, you know. Even if you kill me, my team is gonna rip your fucking business to shreds.” He shifted, pulled his knees up. “There will be nothing left, I’m telling you.”

The comment struck a chord. His captor reached for the gun at his side and walked menacingly towards him. “I wouldn’t count on that,” he snarled, looming over Danny’s huddled form. 

“Yeah, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” the blond detective replied, showing his adversary no fear. “You don’t know my partner. He’s an animal, he’s gonna tear the island apart looking for me. I personally wouldn’t get on his bad side, but that’s just me.” 

The man reached down and grabbed a fistful of Danny’s shirt, pulling him up to his feet. Danny hissed as the pain in his shoulder flared up again, tried to cover his discomfort and failed.

“Your partner knows what’s at stake, and agrees that it’s best to do what he’s told.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed at the words. “What’d you do, huh?” he demanded with barely restrained anger as a feeling of dread knotted his stomach. “What did you say to him?” 

He had tried to warn Steve, telling him not to comply with the men’s requests, knowing as he did so that his friend would do everything in his power to find him and get him home, including making a deal with the Park family. He would do the exact same thing if the roles were reversed.

A moment later, he felt the man’s 9mm under his chin. 

“I would stop talking if I were you,” he warned. “But that’s just me.” The gun pressed against Danny’s throat, forcing his neck at an awkward angle. “Make no mistake, detective. I _will_ kill you if you don’t do as I say.” Then without warning, he released the grip on his captive’s shirt. Unprepared, Danny fell to the floor. He tried to twist his body to land on his uninjured side, but the impact jarred his shoulder anyway, leaving him curled up in a fetal position and gasping for breath.

“The exchange is in an hour. You want to live, I suggest you start following orders.”

_Exchange? _

As he struggled through the pain, Danny watched the man leave the room and realized that if he wanted to get out of there and help Steve and his team take these bastards down, he needed to come up with a plan before this exchange, or whatever was about to go down.

He had to do something, and he had to do it now.

***

“Commander McGarrett, I trust there will be no surprises this time.”

The third and final call came as they were gearing up at HQ, getting ready to head wherever the Park brothers instructed them to. 

After the outburst at the house Steve had collected himself, changed out of his wet clothes and headed back to the Palace where he’d spent the night formulating a plan of attack. HPD was already surveilling all the gang’s known locations, reporting no suspicious activities, so he figured they were intentionally staying off the radar and keeping Danny around the same area where his cell phone had last pinged. 

Also, both brothers had been spotted around town conducting their usual business, which meant they’d left their hostage in somebody else’s care, or were fairly confident he wouldn’t cause trouble.

Steve immediately scratched the second option off his mind. 

He secured the straps of his protective vest and put the phone on speaker, allowing everyone to hear 

“No,” he replied curtly, his jaw tense.

“Good,” the voice replied in a falsely relieved tone. “I trust you’re a man of your word. You’ll forgive me if I’ve taken a few precautions anyway, just to make sure you’re going to deliver what’s promised.”

The veiled threat echoed around the room. Steve found Lou’s gaze and held it as sparks of anger reignited again at his enemy’s words. The older man gave him an encouraging nod, silently conveying all of his support and the strength his friend desperately needed.

“I want to talk to Detective Williams.”

“You can’t.”

“Then I’m not—”

The man cut him off. “We’ve been through this, McGarrett. I talk, you listen. Anything else, any small deviation from schedule, and there will be consequences.”

Steve’s fingers found the edge of the table and curled around it in a tight grip. The picture of his partner’s unconscious form was seared into his brain, its details seizing every conscious thought, and part of him was still terrified to find out that they’d already killed him and all his actions had been for naught.

More than that, that those actions had been the ones to cause it.

He felt Lou’s steady presence at his side, hardened his resolve by looking into his teammates’ eyes.

“What do you want me to do?”

***

The exchange took place in Waipahu, bringing back more memories of friends in trouble and desperate measures to bring them back to safety.

Steve prepared as if he was back in combat, expecting strenuous fights and gunfire. With his teammates scattered around to provide backup and the resolve to get intel on Danny’s whereabouts, he showed up steely-eyed and ready for battle. 

A few minutes of resistance, and his opponents realized that their struggle was futile.

Finding himself face to face with Joseph, the younger of the Park brothers, Steve recognized the voice that had taunted him over the phone. He punched him in the face, just because he could. 

Under the threat of impending death, the man had given up the locations of their illicit trades.  
If someone had questioned the additional black eye and dislocated jaw he’d sported at the end of the impromptu interrogation, they would’ve shrugged it off as punishment for resisting arrest. 

No one did.

Five-0 spread over the two different sites, coordinating with HPD so they could assist them with more manpower. Steve, Junior and Adam took the one closer to Danny’s latest known position while the others headed to Kapolei to capture the rest of the gang.

Heart in his throat, Steve sped through the trafficked roads as fast as humanly possible, giving Adam —who was following in a second vehicle— a hard time keeping up with him. 

Seconds blurred into minutes.

Buildings blurred into trees. 

He didn’t notice any of it, his thousand-yard stare focused on the road and the mission ahead.

When he stormed into the room his friend was kept in thirteen minutes later, his two teammates hot on his heels and securing the perimeter, the scene playing out before him took him completely by surprise.

Danny, his bloody face staring defiantly ahead, was kneeling on the ground, a gun pointed to his head. The thug towering over him was panting harshly, nursing an aching jaw with his free hand. Another man was lying in a heap next to him, clearly unconscious. 

In his best ‘shoot first, think later’ stunt, Steve squeezed the trigger, killing his partner’s captor with a precise shot to the head. 

“Danny!” 

Unsteady legs crossed the space between them, rushing him by Danny’s side. He looked him over, taking in the bruises, his split lip, and the swollen eye while simultaneously breathing in relief at the realization that he was really there. 

Alive.

“What’s the matter with you, huh?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. His heart was still beating twice as fast, the panic that had gripped it struggling to recede. “Going after suspects without backup? They could’ve killed you!”

“That’s usually my line.”

“Yeah, well, this time you earned it.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, both panting for breath, adrenaline still pumping.

“Help me out, will ya?” Danny said, struggling to get back on his feet. 

Steve immediately reached for the knife in his pocket and cut the zip tie binding his friend’s hands. “Your shoulder...” he whispered, eyes wide, as soon as he saw the visibly deformed joint.

Danny cradled his arm protectively across his chest. “Hurts like a bitch. What did they want?”

“The files. Everything we had on them.”

“And you—”

“I did,” Steve cut him off. “I gave it to them. They said they were gonna kill you.”

“I told you not to do it…”

“Don’t worry, I took precautions so they couldn’t access the data.” 

“Good. That’s good. So you’re not completely whacked out of your head because let me remind you, that took a whole month to gather.”

“I wasn’t gonna risk your life,” Steve replied matter-of-factly, squashing his friend’s attempt at humor and surprised he would even question his decision.

Danny saw the fear on Steve’s face, the barely restrained worry, and smiled at him through his discomfort. “I’m fine, they just knocked me around a little.”

“Don’t ever do that to me again, Danno.” 

“I’m alright, Steve. I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Steve slid one arm around his partner’s waist, trying to support as much of his weight as possible as he led them out of the room. “You did this?” he asked, nodding at the unconscious man at their feet.

“Thought I’d speed things up,” Danny shrugged. “Took you long enough…”

A look of pride flashed across Steve’s eyes. “What happened?”

“That’s a story for another day, buddy. I just want to go home.”

Steve nodded, and there was a long silence after that. Reassured by the warm presence at his side, he felt his heart slow back to normal and the tension gradually leave his body. 

It was over.

They had beaten the odds again.

Outside, two more men were lying on the ground, legs spread, hands behind their heads. Junior had his gun trained on them, and was using the same threatening glare that always got Steve what he wanted. A few feet further, Adam was on the phone calling for an ambulance. 

Steve guided Danny to a stack of crates and sat him down, frowning at the look on his friend’s face. Having dislocated his shoulder more times than he liked to remember, he knew exactly how painful it was.

“I could pop it back in, you know.”

Danny looked at him with his patented ‘are you insane’ expression on his face. “Who are you, Martin Riggs?”

“Who?” Steve’s brow furrowed.

“Martin Riggs. Lethal Weapon. 80’s classic about—”

“I’ve seen the movie, Danny.”

“Then you’ll know that under no circumstances I’ll slam my shoulder against the wall to fix it,” he stated, right hand waving and punctuating his speech.

“That’s not what I was suggesting.”

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you? 

Steve glared at him but didn’t answer.

“Of course you have. Why am I even asking?”

“Shut up.”

“You, my friend, are the real lethal weapon,” Danny smiled. “And I’ve never been so happy to see you. Thanks for coming.”

Steve nodded, his eyes saying what his voice couldn’t.

_Always. _

_I will always come for you. _

Danny stood up and wrapped his good arm around Steve’s waist. “Come here, I love you.”

“I love you too, buddy.”

***

‘Home’, Danny learned, turned out to be Steve’s house.

He didn’t even question it, didn’t bother arguing, just eagerly collected his discharge papers and prescriptions and followed him to the parking lot.

The drive was a blur. He lost time, and only realized they were there when Steve put a hand on his thigh to bring him back to the present.

Climbing out of the ridiculously tall truck was a challenge. Danny struggled a bit but managed to do it, grabbing the door for support. He took a deep breath once his feet touched the ground and started to make his way to the front door. Steve followed, hovering behind him and ready to take action if necessary. 

“I’m fine, Steve. Relax.”

“If you say so, buddy.”

Danny might be fine, but Steve sure wasn’t. The adrenaline dump after such an intense day had drained all of his energy, and the emotions he’d struggled with were still messing with his head, ratcheting up the need to be as physically close to him as possible. 

He unlocked the door, moved aside to let him in and turned on the lights. “Sit down, I’ll get you some water for your pain meds.”

“Yeah,” Danny nodded, watching him disappear into the kitchen. He stood in the middle of the living room, breathing slowly, realizing how close he’d gotten to losing everything he had. 

Part of being a good law enforcement officer was learning how to pick one’s battles.

No case was worth risking your life for. 

As he vowed never to put the job first again, something caught his attention. Something that clashed with his partner’s nature and felt out of place in his obsessively neat house. 

“What is this?” he asked, pointing to the mess in the study Steve had never gotten to clean.

The former SEAL stilled as if caught red-handed. He had completely forgotten about it.

“Yo, come over here,” he said, pretending he hadn’t heard him while knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to distract Danny from the chaos he was staring at. “Let me check that shoulder.”

“I told you, I’m fine. What happened in here?”

Steve ducked his head, trying to hide the shame marking his features. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and reluctantly walked up to him. “I got a little carried away...”

“Neanderthal,” Danny huffed, though the way he said it and the soft expression on his face made it clear it was more like a term of endearment than an actual rebuke. He knew what had happened even before he’d asked, could tell with clear certainty what had driven Steve to go all Terminator on the room. The thought made him smile with affection and tore at his heart at the same time.

Mindful of his injured arm carefully wrapped in a sling, he bent down and picked up the broken lamp that used to sit on John McGarrett’s desk. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, reaching out to take it from his hand. “Doctor said no lifting, no strain.”

He didn’t want his friend to exert himself.

That was his mess to clean. 

Danny clung to it, twisting his body so that Steve couldn’t grab it. His reckless behavior had caused this, and he felt like it was his duty to at least try and fix it. He placed the lamp on the empty desk and wordlessly moved towards the pile of documents sitting on his left. 

Steve sighed.

He wanted to say something but no word seemed appropriate so he headed to the kitchen, grabbed a few trash bags from one of the cabinets and came back. He held one open for Danny, who threw in some of the junk he had already collected, then deposited it at his feet and started to tidy up the other side of the room. 

This wasn’t how he had imagined their evening to go, but somehow it felt right to be here, togeth-er, working in comfortable silence to —literally and figuratively— put back together the broken pieces of their lives.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> The scene I mentioned at the beginning, the one that prompted me to start this story, was Steve trashing his father’s study. Completely losing control and unleashing all his rage. I could see it so very clearly in my head. We all know there would be only one reason for that, so after staring at my one page for almost a week I decided Danny had to be in danger somehow. But Danny, the Danny I love, is not a damsel in distress. If physically able, he can take care of himself and even cause trouble. Also the idea of him being the one to check out a lead without backup, something he usually chastises Steve for, was too tempting to be ignored.
> 
> Share your thoughts with me if you’d like. I always enjoy reading your feedback.


End file.
